Fitzgerald 歌词

	作词 : Black
	It's sad to see your art hanging on the wall
	So many pictures there, yours the best of all
	I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink
	In ancient Massachusetts long before you called
	You traded him and many others for a drink
	You fingers thick from hammers
	Well, it really makes you think
	And then my father would fill your glass so tall
	When I was a kid I gophered in your crew
	Always a kind word and you showed me what to do
	And living hammered, well it's always hit or miss
	But through your cigarette-stained beard, your love rang true
	And though you are so loved it had to come to this
	You got shut off because you always stink of piss
	And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy

	zuo ci : Black
	It' s sad to see your art hanging on the wall
	So many pictures there, yours the best of all
	I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink
	In ancient Massachusetts long before you called
	You traded him and many others for a drink
	You fingers thick from hammers
	Well, it really makes you think
	And then my father would fill your glass so tall
	When I was a kid I gophered in your crew
	Always a kind word and you showed me what to do
	And living hammered, well it' s always hit or miss
	But through your cigarettestained beard, your love rang true
	And though you are so loved it had to come to this
	You got shut off because you always stink of piss
	And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy

	zuò cí : Black
	It' s sad to see your art hanging on the wall
	So many pictures there, yours the best of all
	I like the Indian, the one in ballpoint ink
	In ancient Massachusetts long before you called
	You traded him and many others for a drink
	You fingers thick from hammers
	Well, it really makes you think
	And then my father would fill your glass so tall
	When I was a kid I gophered in your crew
	Always a kind word and you showed me what to do
	And living hammered, well it' s always hit or miss
	But through your cigarettestained beard, your love rang true
	And though you are so loved it had to come to this
	You got shut off because you always stink of piss
	And now you drink someplace where no one bothers you
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy
	Oh, Fitzy

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